Plain Vanilla
by mad half hour
Summary: Magnus introduces Alec to ice cream. They do not end up eating much ice cream. Malec request fill.


_Written for an Anonymous requestor on tumblr, who sent me this prompt:_

_"Can you write something about Malec where Alec is having his first ice cream with Magnus?"_

* * *

"Magnus, this is ridiculous."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Magnus replies over the clatter of metal spoons and ceramic bowls. "There is nothing ridiculous about ice cream."

"No," Alec agrees, taking the procured bowl from his boyfriend's outstretching, waving hand. "It's not so much the ice cream itself that's ridiculous—it's the _amount_."

Magnus clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he joins Alec on the floor (this week, Magnus had forgone couches and chairs in favor of large, cushiony pillows; it's a phase that can't die soon enough, as far as Alec is concerned). "No one," Magnus begins in his I-have-centuries-of-wisdom-and-knowledge voice, "can have too much ice cream."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, because no one could possibly need twenty five cartons of it."

"Of course we do!" Magnus argues, leaning over the table to shuffle through the cartons in question. "Now where did I leave the scooper?" His shirt, looser than his typical style but also considerably shorter, is rucked up in the back, bearing an expanse of golden, smooth skin. Briefly, Alec considers compromising. Twenty five cartons of ice cream doesn't seem nearly so superfluous if he were to be, say, licking it all off of someone special.

"What even possessed you to summon so much?" Alec asks, physically shaking himself out of his fantasy of soft sheets, sleek skin and maybe a little ice cream. He's sure it would feature in there somewhere. "It's my first time even trying it. I might hate it, and all of this will be a waste."

"Exactly!" Magnus exclaims the word as though it were a 'Eureka!', pointing at Alec with the ice cream scooper he has just managed to dig out. "It's your first time trying it, and I want you to have some options! And trust me, you'll like it. Everyone likes ice cream."

"People who are lactose intolerant don't like ice cream," Alec points out, just to be contrary. He knows Magnus is going to get what he wants, but that doesn't mean Alec has to make it easy for him.

"People who are lactose intolerant _can't_ have ice cream, but that doesn't mean they don't like it," Magnus argues, scooping out a bowl of something sort of tan with swirls of chocolate and what looks like peanut butter. "In fact, I bet that's the real reason why they're so miserable all the time. They can't eat delicious things like ice cream."

Alec rolls his eyes, propping his chin up with his hand, his elbow on the edge of the crowded table. "You're ridiculous," Alec says fondly.

"As ridiculous as twenty five cartons of ice cream?" Magnus asks around a mouthful of spoon and frozen confectionary.

"At least." Grinning now, Alec gestures to the other bowl at Magnus's side. "Alright, let's get this over with. I'll have a scoop of vanilla."

Magnus raises a black brow (just one, which Alec had thought impossible until he met Magnus—Alec wonders how many decades it took him to perfect the necessary skill to lift only one brow) that looks far too condescending for Alec's taste. "Really, Alec?"

"What?"

"Vanilla?"

"What's wrong with vanilla?" Alec asks defensively.

"Oh, nothing," Magnus says, wrenching the lid off of the ice cream carton and removing the plastic cover. "I should have figured, honestly."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I just mean that I should have guessed you would go for the vanilla," Magnus says with a shrug. "You play it safe. Of course you'd skip over twenty four unique, exciting flavors to pick boring, safe vanilla."

"Are you calling me boring?"

"No," Magnus denies, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not you. Just your taste."

"My taste, huh?" Alec asks around a laugh. He scoots closer to Magnus, pressing into his side as though to share the pleasant warmth bubbling up inside of him. "That's pretty vague. Does it include my taste in men? Izzy is always saying I could do better than a magic-using business man—"

"Your taste in men is impeccable, darling. You just don't have a sense of adventure."

"I slay demons for a living," Alec responds dryly. Inwardly, he basks in the feeling of Magnus's body hitching against his with quiet laughter. It's not something he gets to experience often, lately. The wards are getting weaker every day, more demons making their way through to attack the mundane world. It makes for long nights and far too little downtime.

"A sense of culinary adventure, then," Magnus corrects, patting Alec's cheek.

In his periphery, Alec makes out the almost holographic glint of reflective green nail polish. The shifting colors reminds him of Magnus's eyes. He reaches for those fingers and holds them in place, leaning over to kiss Magnus softly on the lips. Magnus hums in pleasure and allows Alec to lead, yielding to the swipe of his tongue and the press of pale fingers grasping over his own.

Alec pulls away slowly, cheeks flushed with the warmth still building inside of him. Licking his lips he teases, "Peanut butter and fudge? Not bad. I thought you'd be more of a tootie fruity, birthday cake, cotton candy type of guy, though."

"Oh no," Magnus says with a shake of his head. His hair is a little mussed, and there's a pleasant glow to his cheeks and eyes that wasn't there before. "My favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla, actually."

Days later, Magnus is still whining about how Alec wasted a whole carton of ice cream by putting it down the back of his shirt. Alec knows he doesn't really mean it, though. He certainly wasn't complaining when Alec cleaned him up afterward.


End file.
